The Truth About Santa
by NickyFan
Summary: "Do you believe in Santa?" Everyone knows this question… and answering isn't always easy. So what do you think Nick's answer will be? A little Nick Christmas fic.


Title: The Truth About Santa

Author: NickyFan

Disclaimer: All rights belong to CBS and their writers.

Summary:

„Do you believe in Santa?" Everyone knows this question… and answering isn't always easy. So what do you think Nick's answer will be?

Notes: This is my second Nick Christmas fic. I hope you enjoy it. Like every writer I really like to get reviews so please drop a line. English isn't my first language, so some verbalizations might sound a little weird ;-) If you like you can also check out my second Christmas fic "This Time of the Year" :-) Merry Christmas, everyone!

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**The Truth About Santa**

Snow! Real snow! Thick white flakes were falling from the sky two days before Christmas. Everything around him was white. The trees looked as if they had white cotton on their branches instead of leaves and the houses looked as if they were gingerbread houses with icing. He had never had a real white Christmas but this year it looked as if he would be lucky. It had been very cold the past several days and he had heard that it would continue to be this cold and even colder the next few days. It's a rarity that they all actually had to wear hats and scarves and gloves when they were outside. Texan winters were supposed to look grey and unfriendly. What he saw now when he looked around were happy kids playing in the snow, rushing down hills with their sleds.

Holding his own wooden sled on its cord in his little fist he stood in the middle of the busy ado around the only hill that was appropriate for riding sleds. He could hear them squealing when they rode down the hill. He was eager to try it too. He had only tried it once in his life before, when they were visiting his aunt who lived in Minnesota. But he had to say that the snow at home looked better than it had looked there.

He made his way up the hill. His sisters were already up there… they didn't wait for him. Why should they anyway? He was a big boy and he could pull his sled alone up the hill. He didn't need help. He pumped his little legs which weren't used to this kind of weather… the thick layers of clothing he was wearing made it even harder to walk. His mom made him wear his warmest clothes and his ski pants which made his legs look at least twice as big as they really were. His dad had teased him and said that he should gain a few pounds or it would be hard for him to pull the sled and walk with a whole closet full of clothes on him. And Nick had to agree with him… it was hard, but it wasn't impossible. And finally he reached the top.

Breathing heavily, he watched three older boys riding down the hill on their new high-tech sleds. They were made out of plastic. He remembered hearing his dad say that the companies who sold them made great profit with them this year because not every kid around here had one, but their parents bought them sleds now with all the snow they had here this week. Now they all had the same red sled. Even his sisters had one. But Nick had a wooden sled and he liked it. Santa had brought it to him three years ago. His dad thought that now that he had a sled he also should have the chance to try it out and so they took the sled with them when they visited his aunt the following January.

But this year he could use it at it was his turn to sit on the sled and rush down the hill he could see his sisters standing down there waiting for him, red sleds in hand. They were waving at him to come down and he pumped his legs and down he went. The cold wind brushed against his reddened face and he felt a familiar tickling in his belly as he drove downward. It was hard to keep his eyes open with all the cold wind but he didn't dare to close his eyes. With his wooden sled he drove a lot faster than all the others. It took a lot of strength to come to a stop down there and he was sure he would have landed in the snowy bushes a few feet away if he didn't stand soon but he managed. When he finally stood up and moved beside the sled course he saw his sisters and moved over to them.

"Wow!" an older boy who stood halfway up the hill and had watched him riding down yelled. "Your sled is cool, not as useless and lame as the ones all the others have."

It was now that Nick noticed that the boy had no sled with him. He was just standing there watching. He smiled up to him proudly and said, "Santa brought it to me."

Everyone around him started laughing, even his sisters who stood beside him with their own shiny red plastic sleds. Nick couldn't understand why they were laughing. _What was so funny?_

"Santa?" laughed the boy. "You think so, huh?"

"Of course!" Nick was confused. He had unwrapped his wooden sled on Christmas morning three years ago. He had been so excited and nervous the day before Santa was supposed to come that he had a hard time sleeping that night. "I unwrapped it on Christmas morning," he added.

"Yes, our grandpa built the sled for him. It was a Christmas present," his four year older sister said.

"Ah," said the boy and continued watching the children riding down the hill.

For him it was clear but for Nick it wasn't. _What had his sister just said? A Christmas present from his grandpa? _"You lied to him!" Nick called after his sister who was about to climb the hill again. "Santa brought it to me. It's not from Grandpa."

"Of course it is, Nicky. You should know by now that there is no Santa to bring you gifts. It's either Mom and Dad or our grandparents who make us presents." And with that she climbed up higher without looking back.

"But…" He didn't know what to say. It was as if someone had taken away the ground he stood on. How could she say that? It was two days before Christmas and he was sure that Santa would be very disappointed in her when he found out. _But what if it was true? What if there was no Santa?_ Now that he thought about it he couldn't say for sure… he had never seen him coming down the chimney to bring gifts or anything… and every year when he and his sisters sat in Santa's lap he looked different… it was weird. His sister's voice was in his head, telling him that there was no Santa. The old men with the red robes and white beards were just pretending to be Santa. Or why else would there be a different Santa every year?

And he had believed! He had shared his cookies with him, left them out for him the night before Christmas morning because he surely must be hungry coming a long way to bring gifts to all the children of the world. And now he knew that it wasn't true… that Santa didn't come… that it was all just a dream.

With hanging shoulders he walked back home. He didn't want to ride down the hill anymore. Nick left his sisters who were all giggling as they rode down the hill and landed in the snow. All the way back home he couldn't stop thinking about what they had just said.

When he opened the door to get back inside he could smell his Mom's cooking. It smelled delicious as always but somehow he wasn't looking forward to it today. His Mom heard the door closing and came out of the kitchen to see who it was.

"Nicky! Why are you already back? I thought you wanted to go sledding with your sisters? Are you cold?" Her eyes wandered over his red pointed cap and his red flushed cheeks to his jacket and pants. His clothes seem to be dry. She couldn't help but to smile at her son. He looked just too cute with his pointed cap and his thick winter jacket and ski pants. He hadn't grown much over the year and so he could still wear the warm clothes they bought him last year. She wondered if he was ever going to grow but then he had always been a little small for his age.

"I was with them but now I don't want to anymore." With that he took of his pointed cap, revealing his thick dark hair which was now tousled in every direction. He didn't look her in the eyes and she could sense that there was something wrong with him. She could read him like a book. But she remained silent for now and helped him out of his warm clothes. Nick refused to look at her during the whole process and after he got out of his warm clothes he went upstairs to his room. She sighed and looked after him. Nick was like his father in situations like that. Bill would never tell her what bothered him… only after a while of dealing with it on his own. She was afraid that her youngest had the same quality. It was useless to go after him and so she made her way back to the kitchen and to the stove where her lunch was cooking.

Upstairs in his room Nick lay down on his bed and stared at the ceiling. He still couldn't get it… he felt deceived. If it was like his sister had said they all lied to him and all the years he had never thanked those who actually bought him the gifts. He got up from the bed and stepped to his desk where a self-made Christmas card lay which he had made himself for Santa. There was a big snowman coloured on it and as he opened the card he could see his own attempts of writing a thank you to Santa. He threw it back on his desk and left the room to go downstairs into the kitchen where his mom was busy preparing their lunch. He sat down at his place at the table.

Jillian noticed Nick coming into the room and watched him sit down at the table, his head on his arms and his feet bouncing back and forth under the table. "Nick, what's wrong, honey?" she asked.

He stayed silent and so she walked over to the table and brushed a hand through his thick mop of hair. Her seven year old son was just as stubborn as his father. She would wait and let him know that she was there if he wanted to talk. Jillian put a hand on his shoulder.

"Is it true?" Nick asked a while later, not looking up from his arms. He wanted to know the truth and he was sure his mom would never lie to him.

"What do you mean, sweetie?" She had no idea what this was all about.

Nick sighed and a few seconds later he asked again, "Is it true that there is no Santa?"

Now he was looking up into her eyes and she could see his big brown sad looking eyes. She knew that she had to explain it to him one day but she thought it would be another year or two before he started to ask questions about it. It didn't matter who told him that Santa didn't exist or why… what mattered was how she dealt with it now. There were many people who refused to believe... it was sad. _Would Nick understand?_

"Well honey, this is a hard question to answer. Do you believe in Santa, Nicky?"

He shrugged. "I don't know anymore… I used to, but then they said there was no Santa and I don't know what to think anymore."

She started to stroke his head again in sympathy and answered, "I believe in Santa."

The little boy looked up at her, surprised. "You do? But I thought you and Dad were always giving us the presents? That's what they all say. How can you believe in Santa then?"

"But we're not playing Santa, sweetie. We're just helping him." Nick looked confused now and so she tried to explain. "You know, Nicky, Santa is really old and he has a lot of work to do on Christmas… so many children and so little time. He needs helpers… and we're his helpers, as are all the other people at Christmas."

Nick nodded at her and he looked convinced. He trusted his Mom. "So, you're helping Santa with the gifts?"

She nodded at him and in her eyes he could see pure honesty and understanding. He stood up and hugged his Mom, feeling relieved at her answer. He had always believed in Santa.

"So, you're sure that Santa is somewhere watching us?" he asked her again to make sure it was true.

She hugged the little boy close and whispered in his ear, "If you believe in him, then he is." She smiled at him and he smiled back. Jillian was glad to see him smile again. "Why don't you go play a little before it's time for lunch, Nicky?"

He nodded at her and went out of the kitchen. But at the door he stopped and turned back. "Mom?"

"Yes, Nicky?"

"Could you give Santa the thank you card I made for him?"

"Sure, I will"

He smiled wider. "I'll give it to you soon. I just have to go finish it up."

With that he ran up the stairs to his room and sat at his desk. He took a green coloured pen and opened his self-made thank you card. With high concentration to make no mistakes he added right under the 'Thank you, Santa' phrase: _and thank you to Santa's helpers. Merry Christmas, Nick._

And to this day Nick still believes. And sometimes in the night before Christmas, he awakens and thinks he hears the jingle bells on Santa's sled.

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A/N: Special thanks to Smokey for her great beta work. I would be lost without you! :-)


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